“You can?”
“Yep. Two consenting adults. And?”
“I turned into my dad. I got depressed and started drinking from the time I get out of bed in the morning and using drugs. The truth is, I didn’t come here just to be with Kate. My life is shit. I came here to get away from it for a while.”
But instead, he brought his life and its attendant shit here with him and dumped them in our laps. “I’m curious,” I say. “The expensive clothes and boots, your-shall we say discriminating-palate for food and wine. How did you develop such expensive tastes on a grad student’s budget?”
He smirks. “I had a girlfriend with a rich daddy. We lived high on the hog on his money. When I fucked the freshman, I lost my cash cow along with my position.”
“Bummer. And how did you come to lose your fancy boots?”
“When I was in that bar-the one where you bailed me out of trouble-I hung out with a couple guys. We did some lines of speed. One of them told me how much he liked my boots.”
John pauses.
I light another cigarette. “And?”
“I really didn’t know all my cards were maxed out. I thought I had a little credit left. I told you I wouldn’t upset Kate.”
“You’re a considerate human being, but you digress. And?”
“I still had a hundred-euro bill in my wallet. He told me to call him today, said he had more speed and we’d party all day.”
I resist the urge to slap him. “After what happened to you yesterday, are you so incredibly stupid that you were going to do the exact same thing again today?”
He nods.
“And this speed freak set a trap for you. He thought you’re a dumbass drunk druggie foreigner, unable to do anything about it, so he ripped you off for a few euros and your boots.”
He nods again.
My headache begs me to smack his head off the windshield. “You fucked up bad.”
The muscles in his face twitch. “I’m broke. It’s twenty below and snowing. I don’t have any shoes or money to buy them. I don’t know what to do.”
“Let me think for a minute.” I light Marlboro number three and shut my eyes. The migraine issues an earsplitting shriek. I open my eyes again, look out the driver’s-side window and see a cash machine across the street. “Wait here,” I say.
I take two hundred and forty euros from the machine and give it to John. “Now you have money, you can maintain your pretense for Kate. Make it last. How bad are your drug and alcohol problems?”
His face goes sheepish. He massages his pale feet. “I can make it without the speed. I mostly use it to keep from getting sloppy when I binge-drink. I found a bottle of kookoo or whatever that vodka is called in your house this morning and took a couple hits to get rid of the shakes.”
“Did you do what I told you and lie to Kate about your outing yesterday?”
He holds his soaking socks up in front of the heater. It blows wet dog smell around the car. “I went to the National Museum. The prehistory of Finland archeological exhibit was incredible.”
“Today you went shopping,” I say. “You wanted some warmer boots and got some just like mine.”
“What happened to my Sedona Wests?”
“You’re a humanitarian. You gave them to UFF, our version of Goodwill. I’m going to fix this. What did the guy who ripped you off look like?”
“Tall. Thin. Stringy shoulder-length black hair. He wears a worn-out black leather biker jacket.”